


Bone Dancer

by Andronicus



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andronicus/pseuds/Andronicus
Summary: Kurosawa Kenta comes from the generation of Shinobi that found themselves in the middle of the Third Shinobi World War as children. Years later, bloodlust, nerves, nightmares, and loneliness are a fundamental part of life. Sees appearances from a number of Konoha’s other well known residents and plot points, but mainly about Kenta’s life and challenges. Starts before Konoha Crush. Also posted on FF.
Kudos: 2





	1. One

Bingo Book

Konohagakure  
Rank: S-rank Jounin  
Age: 25  
Name: Kurosawa Kenta (Bone Dancer)  
Specials:  
Kenjutsu specialist (dual wielder)  
Practices ice release

Third Shinobi World War Hero  
Extreme caution recommended  
Skill levels:  
Taijutsu maxed, ninjutsu very good, genjutsu moderate, stamina maxed, speed very good

My apartment was empty sans a few pieces of furniture. I made it that way so I wouldn't have anything to make a mess of while I was here. I had a bed, a couch, and that was all. I threw my gear and weapons on the couch most days, and threw away any food in the fridge before every mission. Dust covered most surfaces, though I didn't have the products to clean it. I doubted that I would even if I had the products, though.

It wasn't such a wicked place, surprisingly. I'm sure most civilians would expect that I lived in a cave with piles of bones and rotting meat. Maybe a few people chained by their toes for me to torture at my whims. Hell, a few of the genin and chuunin might even believe that, for the looks they send my way when they don't think I'm looking. Sadly, for all of them, I was never so nefarious a soul.

The rumors were possibly fed by my irregular and far in-between appearances in the village, though those were more because of my asocial tendencies. I don't spend a lot of time around other shinobi in my off time (read:none), as I utilize the Jounin only training fields and am not one for wandering around. Since a lot of my missions were solo A-ranks (I suspected the higher ups of doubting my ability to play nice), I really had limited interaction with others.

It was no wonder, really. I didn't have friends and hadn't tried to make any since I was probably five years old. I had no family. I was a lonely person, and had been a lonely person for so long that I no longer sought out the alternative. The alternative, of seeking out new friends or acquaintances, was foreign and vaguely nerve-wracking to me. That was probably the xenophobe in me speaking, though.

I was one of Konoha's top shinobi, though, and I was on missions the majority of the time, back-to-back usually.

I didn't mind. It lulled me into a motive-based mindset. The worst times were times like these, when I ended up alone in this dirty, old apartment.

Shinobi surround us. Estimated at seventy. Mission success will turn to failure if all members of team fail to return to headquarters. Four of us against seventy, ratio of 17.5 to 1. Scratch that, one member of time is iryo-nin, likely not qualified for combat. 23.3 to 1, worst case scenario. Chances of full team survival is near zero. Chances of escape is near zero. Will need to fight. Prepare to lose life.

The first shinobi met my blade with his kunai, and I was immediately flanked from behind. At the same time, a scream rang out. From that point, I assumed that the Iryo-nin Aiko, a chuunin, was incapacitated, likely dead. 23.3 to 1 it is. I met the shinobi in front of me with my second blade, his kunai too slow to stop his decapitation. 69 estimated.

My foot lashed out to catch the flanking shinobi, concentrated chakra shooting out of bottom of my boot. What might've been a few broken bones at worst turned into a man split in half. 68 estimated.

A whistling senbon met me seconds before the thrower was upon me. I dodged it fluidly before catching her kick on the 'X' that my two blades made when crossed. Her momentum was heavy, but she wasn't strong enough to so much as budge my stance. She moved to flip forward, but I caught her leg in my hand a fraction of a second after sheathing my longer blade. I slammed her body down against the ground, my chakra enhanced boot following moments later. Her head separated from her body in a single clean motion. 67 estimated.

Four of them were on me in the next moment, their blows coming from every direction. I dug my long blade into the earth, rolling with the kunai and punches. .. It was a pain to try and use a long bladed sword at such short distance, as I'd learned well over the years. One at time I took them down, through a temple-shattering punch, a broken neck, etc.. 63 estimated.

So it went on. There were some times I noticed an increase in my attackers circling, as if their earlier targets were no longer active. I assumed the remainder of my team was gone after the second time that occurred.

I estimated 35 chakra signatures then. 35 to 1. I ripped off the bandages covering the lower half of my face when I had a free second, freeing the sharpened knives that made up all my teeth. When the next shinobi went for my legs, I yanked him up by the neck and tore out his larynx with my teeth before tossing his body away. 29 estimated.

I wasn't immortal, and my chakra was beginning to show that. The repeated usage of the chakra blades was taking a toll, along with the chakra enforced punches and kicks I was using every other second. Heavy breaths clung at my lungs, my stance falling back into a low-centered fighter's stance almost every time I had the opportunity. Exhaustion breeds mistakes, and a kunai embedded in my rib cage showed me the truth of that.

It seemed to boost their morale, and I bared my teeth. Bloodlust began bubbling in my veins like poison, and suddenly the situation was thrown for a loop. The blood dripping from my teeth was exciting, and the corpses surrounding me made me want to sing. Home, I had reached it at least. Like anger's red-tinged blanket, bloodlust took over as a fever dream.

My own heartbeat roared in my ears as I breathed heavily, my eyes wide as I went in for a kill. A broken neck, a dodged fireball. The burning, screaming, cracking bones, whistling metal. A flurry of ripped off limbs, sprays of blood, and soft flesh became a dream. Warm, viscous blood dripped from my chin, my hands, everywhere as I immersed myself. The looks I got in a person's last moments, fear, terror, fed my profound excitement.

Everything happens so quick, and I force myself to keep up with it. More, more, more! A skin stretching grin pulls at my lips as I rip the limbs off of a shinobi. Let this moment last forever! Almost feverishly I chase after each target, and my last enemy runs when I turn to her.

The last chakra signature faded as I ripped open her abdominal cavity, chakra allowing my fingers to tear her skin and muscles like hot bread. Sticky blood seemed to envelope me, the iron tang prominent in my nose right before feces and even less so, stomach acid. There's too many ripped open chest cavities and strewn intestines to avoid the two.

Bloodlust, the uncontrollable desire to kill or maim others. Whether unto me it had been a curse or a blessing, it was hard to tell when it came to the life I led. In that moment, as I came down from what felt like an induced high, it felt like a curse.

The adrenalin that had made me burn leaves me cold and a little empty. Like a toy soldier that had ran out of batteries. Pain and exhaustion settle in as the fog leaves my mind. Now, all I could do was stare at the horror that met my conscious mind whenever I came down from bloodlust. A nightmare manufactured and put in place by myself.

Glassy eyes seemed to watch me from all corners of the red-stained clearing. From my count, I'd killed 62 of them. 62 of these eyes watched me accusingly. I was alone though, so I didn't make any attempt to stop myself from emptying the contents of my stomach. So much blood covered me, a significant fraction of it mine. I was lightheaded and weak; my chakra stores nearly depleted. Overall, not in a good place.

Years ago, I'd earned the name Bone Dancer. After a battle like this, I wouldn't have stopped when all my enemies were dead. I would have ripped open rib cages, stomped on the skulls of the dead, ripped limbs off of bodies with the glee of a child ripping the wings off of a fallen insect. I was called a dancer the first time because those that saw me said it looked like I was doing some strange dance, moving around and stomping. Bone Dancer, someone must've corrected when they realized on what.

In that time, burning rage filled me constantly, and the playground that the Third Shinobi World War offered me served as my place to vent.

Ironically, I probably would have died without the war. I had so much bloodlust, and so often I felt it aimed at civilians and fellow Konoha shinobi. The promise of kills in the near future got me through many days. Without that promise, I likely would've died after being branded a traitor for killing someone.

Rage that was violent, rage that felt uncontrollable, rage that changed my own personality it sometimes seemed. It still manifested sometimes, like today in the form of bloodlust, but never so badly as it once had been.

There was a light chill in the air as night time drew near, and the blood that had soaked into my clothes cooled right along with it. My breathing was still ragged despite my body cooling down, injuries taking their toll. I had received an incredible number of superficial wounds, from barely dodged kunai and such, along with a few deeper wounds. Nothing that would impede me on my way back to Konoha, though, so I ignored them for the time being. After wiping down both of my blades and sheathing them on my back, I went to find my teammates.

The iryo-nin died with a scared look on her face. Her wide open eyes felt like a punch in the gut, and I fought the urge to throw up again. She wasn't meant for fighting, and her death wasn't justified. I felt a muted grief, and I allowed it. Our enemies were currently gone, and though I wouldn't let myself become unaware or lose perspective, she deserved my grief at the very least.

I crouched down next to her body as I drew out a blood-supplement tablet. I ground it up and dropped it into my canteen before throwing it back. A food-pill would increase my metabolism, chakra, energy, etc., but what with my slowly bleeding-out body, I went without.

I clipped the canteen back to my pack with a sigh. I found the other two shinobi cold. One had his throat slit, the other I couldn't tell from a glance. Pain clenched at my heart and scratched at my throat. They didn't deserve this. They trusted me. They were just chuunin, they should have been able to trust I would keep them safe. They were all teenagers. The mission was already done, scroll in hand. I should've protected them. They shouldn't ... a sigh slid softly out of my throat as I averted my eyes.

Deaths followed me like moths to a flame. As if my life string was so strong, all those around mine frayed and snapped. I was tired of it.

Cool apathy came easily, like pulling a familiar blanket around my shoulders. It was easier to watch from a detached perspective as I slung the two chuunin onto one shoulder. Feeling their blood drip down onto me didn't invoke any reaction. I held them there with that arm, adjusting until the bodies were stable enough. I made my way back to the medic-nin, grunting as I slid her onto my other shoulder. Pain lanced up my arm and across my shoulder, but I just tightened my grip on the girl with a grimace.

During the battle, something had happened to my arm. I'd ignored it so far, shifting to primarily using my other hard to fight. Through reinforcing it with chakra, it barely held me back. Now I didn't have the chakra to spare, so I let it be. I clenched my jaw and accepted the pain as a fraction of what I should feel. If there was any fairness in this world, someone like me would have died a long time ago.

With a secure hold on the three bodies, I returned to the trees, leaving behind the corpses of 70 odd shinobi. Limbs, intestines, and chunks of odd flesh and brain matter were strewn about, blood covering the clearing as a whole. It was a piece of gruesome art that most who knew me would recognize. They'd say that I'd danced on their bones surely, drunken on their blood, laughing as I plucked out their eyes. I wouldn't disagree. My actions in the past more than warranted the stories, and I wasn't exactly in complete remedial.

Night came quickly after the sun dipped below the horizon. I was relatively close to Konoha, as we'd been returning when the shinobi had caught up to us. I had to stop a few times when I nearly slipped off the trees, catching my breath for a minute.

The famous Konoha ninja Kurosawa Kenta could barely tree run. I didn't matter though, the lights of Konoha greeted me in the distance. The mission would succeed, and I told the corpses on my shoulders that they did not die in vain. Their sacrifices were worthy, and their home would remember them as heroes.

I didn't pass through the gates, instead going straight over the walls. My chakra signature would probably be recognized, anyway. I passed over the roofs of civilians, a single step taking me to the next roof most of the time.

I took the bodies to the morgue. It was a morgue for shinobi, but even then the older-than-typical genin manning the post stared at me like some sort of demon. Carrying three corpses and looking like one myself probably. After a shock he helped me with the bodies, moving them to the metal gurneys that stood ready.

"You know their names?" I asked, softspoken as I stared down at the genin despondently. If not, I would tell him their names and ranks.

"I... I went to the academy with two of them, and the third is one of my sisters friends." He said, looking pale. Probably in shock, but I couldn't help there. I'd probably make it worse, if anything. Instead, I took his reply for confirmation, turning to leave. I didn't get a step further before he asked, "How did they die?"

I was turned away from him, and I was glad for it. I didn't want to see his face.

"They died well, in battle." I was gone before he could reply. The bloody remnants of my face bandages hung around my neck, but I wrapped them around the lower half of my face all the same as I left. The cold, wet material clung to my face, giving me one last line of defense from others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you for getting this far! A few remarks on the story so far:
> 
> I know Kenta is a male Japanese name, not female. If anyone's curious, Kenta comes from the kanji ken, meaning healthy and strong, and the kanji ta, meaning thick and big. It's not a symbolic name for the character, and doesn't go beyond face value as a name.
> 
> I very possibly misunderstood some terminology or techniques, so let me know if you caught something that bothers you. I'll change it as soon as I get a chance.
> 
> Furthermore, regarding techniques, I took the idea for chakra blades (used by Kabuto, for example) and figured that theoretically, the same would be useable from the feet.
> 
> Xenophobe is interpreted as fear of foreigners or foreign customs a lot, but in this context I meant it more as fear of the unknown.
> 
> \- Since my OC is a kenjutsu user and a weird number of known kenjutsu users in Naruto have sharp teeth (mostly looking at you, Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist), I figure it's not a huge stretch. Maybe their pointy teeth as children make them want more pointy things ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (and it makes me feel not so bad about giving my OC a cliché characteristic).
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Two

I went as fast I could to get to the missions desk, which in reality was very slow. Now that I'd dropped off the bodies, I'd lost much of the motivation that had kept me going. I didn't think I even had enough chakra to roof jump, not without passing out before I got to missions. Even now I was feeling out of it, dangerously close to losing consciousness. I wouldn't though. The mission wasn't over, not yet.

There weren't many civilians on the streets thankfully, but many of the ones I passed stopped in the tracks to watch me pass. Some didn't, but their eyes followed me none the less. I must've been a sight.

The scroll worth three lives was held in one of my hands so it wouldn't tremble. The other was half numb and hung limply at my side.

The missions desk wasn't closed yet, as it wasn't yet an hour after sunset I'd guess. It might even be busy. I climbed the steps one I entered the building, two at a time at a slow pace. Regularly, I would return the scroll straight to the Hokage, but during the night, any items were to be taken through the missions desk, that way the shinobi carrying out the mission would be in possession of any important object no longer than necessary.

When I got to the room, I had no choice but to use my injured arm to open it. I clenched my jaw at the pain, opening the door no more than necessary.

The missions room had a good amount of bustle. My boots, normally either silenced through chakra usage or just by my generally being in better shape, were heavy on the wood. As eyes turned to mine, I was glad for the thin layer of cloth covering my face. I made my way to the single desk without a line. A chuunin maybe a year or two younger sat behind it.

For a minute, the silence was broken only by each heavy step of my boots. Muted conversations started back up as I got to the desk.

"Mission success." I managed to say, my throat feeling rough as hell. I held the scroll out to him, and he took it with tentative fingers. My hand came back to rest besides my body, and I tucked it into the pocket of my pants quickly to hide the trembling.

"I'll expect a mission report in soon, until then this will be sent to the Hokage's office." His words were uniform, voice flat almost. I nodded. Mission was a success. A breath I didn't realize I was holding was released, and I closed my eyes as I turned to leave. Relief. The dead chuunin at least got this much.

"W-wait, Kurosawa-san!" It was the chuunin. I didn't turn, instead stopping where I stood.

"Hai," I toned tiredly, waiting for him to say something. Maybe, why didn't you die? Or would it be, you're a fucking disgrace. I stared at the ceiling.

"You really need to go to the hospital." What?

I waved my hand as I began to walk, shaking my head. I would go to sleep on my bed tonight, wash off in a couple days when I woke up, then go to the hospital for them to heal any bones.

"I'm fine." I muttered. Or delusional. I'd had worse injuries though.

"Kurosawa-san, I insist." His voice was so close. A hand on my shoulder. Too close, too close. My eyes widened fractionally, and oh Kami, I can't breathe. I barely feel it as my leg lashes out, catching the chuunin in his midsection. There's enough force to send him flying into the wall. Dread claws at my heart, I didn't mean to.

And then the chuunin are gone, and Jounin are around me.

"Ne, Kurosawa-san, you're hurt." It's the head of the Nara clan, Shikaku. He looks relaxed enough, but I'm not stupid enough to be fooled. I feel threatened, my working hand gripping at the pommel of my sword instinctively. My hand is shaking around the handle.

"I'm sorry. I didn't... mean it. But let me leave." My voice is steady, if off beat, and my eyes are dead as I stare at the ceiling. None of the Jounin even move.

My hand tightens around the pommel for a moment, before I make my decision. With my chakra levels, with my injuries, I didn't have much of a choice even. My hand drops to hang at my side, and I slip it into my pocket as my head cocks to the side.

"Maa, I'll go." I say. The tension in the air relaxes a bit, and a few of the Jounin disappear. Probably to get the other chuunin and genin back. I try to walk again, but this time I'm not so lucky. All the standing still must have finally got me.

My sheathed sword is in my hand in a second, staggering my fall. All I can do is hold myself for a second with it acting as a staff before that gives out too, and I collapse. I'm caught by the arms, and my head dips until my chin makes contact with my chest.

I'm so tired. I'm pulled up to my legs to walk, probably for the sake of my pride so I'm not seen being carried. Shinobi were that way.

I thank the ninja helping me under my breath. I see that it's Shikaku Nara and Kakashi Hatake out of the corners of my eye. My arms are put over their shoulders, one of each of their arms supporting my torso. A sharp exhale of breath makes it out before I can stop it as various parts of my body seem to explode in pain, oh Kami. I clench my jaw stubbornly, breathing quickly through my nose in an effort to rationalize the pain away.

I'm walked down the steps by Shikaku alone, since they're not wide enough for the three of us. He catches me when I stumble, which is thankfully only a single time. Soon Kakashi is supporting me again, and I barely have to use my legs. It's slow progress to the hospital, and I notice, however delayed, that Kakashi is holding onto my second sword. Right, I hadn't picked it up.

The two shinobi spoke a few words but I didn't pick up any of it. My consciousness seemed to flick in and out for moments, my tongue thick in my mouth. My thoughts rolled like waves, sinking in and out as I struggled not to sink under. Sick raised in my throat as I felt a spare piece of what could only be human flesh stuck between two teeth.

"Let go," I groaned, my arms pulling off of their shoulders as I stumbled sideways to the side of the road. I dropped to my knees, clawing at the bandages covering my lower face with my good arm. I ripped them away not a second before I threw up, bent over. Not much came up, but I dug out the human flesh in my mouth. I fingered the bandages in my hands, feebly trying to wrap them back around my face. I was pulled backwards from the pile of sick, back into the arms of the shinobi.

"Maa, Kenta-san were you poisoned?" Kakashi asked.

"No. There was..." I was breathing rather heavily, my thoughts a little jumbled, "Never mind."

Kakashi hummed in response. The next time my consciousness surfaced, more voices were around me. I was laid down on my back, and I blinked blearily. I realized I was at the hospital, and I felt foreign chakra begin to cover me. A hand pressed against my head and I slipped away.

... 

Umino Iruka sat in the waiting room at the hospital. He had a blank mission scroll sitting in his bag, and was admittedly waiting for Kakashi. Not because the man was late (yet) but because Iruka was early.

It was relatively early in the morning, as he'd decided to come before teaching his academy class at 8:30. He wouldn't have had to wait for anyone if the mission details he needed weren't from a Jounin suspected to be close to a meltdown. Her behavior at the missions desk was cause enough, though he suspected that it was because the shinobi had been exhausted and startled by an oblivious desk-ninja.

Iruka didn't know why the details were time sensitive and he didn't ask. Most of the time, shinobi were expected to turn in reports within a day of returning, but Kakashi himself was notorious for being weeks late. It could be due to the wishes of the giver of the mission, or perhaps there would have to be a follow up. Regardless, Iruka wasn't needlessly concerned.

Maybe by the reputation of the shinobi he would be going to meet, though. He'd only seen Kurosawa, the Bone Dancer-nin, in passing once or twice his entire life. He could remember rumors following her since as early as his academy days. She was famous for the gruesome corpses she left behind, and her vicious attacks. Some said she ripped apart her kills with her bare hands, or other ridiculous rumors. Her reputation preceded her nearly as much as the Sannin, and a step up from Kakashi, he himself the legendary copy-nin and renowned as one of the best shinobi of the leaf village.

Kakashi appeared before him in a flash of dark colors, and it was all Iruka had not to jump. Instead, he stood with a muttered greeting. Kakashi gave a two fingered wave and left it at that.

"Excuse me, could I have the number for Kurosawa Kenta's room?" Iruka asked the woman at the desk. She glanced up, and a smile spread across her face.

"Ahh, of course. Just sign in here." She pushed a sign-in sheet over for the two of them to fill in, "You know, it looks like Kurosawa-San hasn't had any visitors all week, it's good that you've come." Iruka blinked, but didn't bother correcting the woman. He felt sympathy for the Jounin, but wasn't so surprised. It wasn't rare for shinobi, especially Jounin, to be lonely. Instead, he thanked the woman at the desk, leaving for the room number she gave.

Kakashi trailed behind him, and Iruka showed his permit to the ANBU standing guard. The guard nodded, allowing the two into the room.

The room was of relative size, and Kurosawa herself was sitting up in bed, eating. She didn't look up as they made their way in, and Iruka caught glimpses of what looked like razor-sharp teeth. Like shark teeth. Maybe the rumors weren't complete lies.

Kurosawa was a tall, muscular woman. Her signature boots (which she stomped on the corpses of her enemies with, as the rumors said) were at the foot of the bed, her katana and wakizashi laid on the floor. She had long blond hair, separated into two tight braids that laid against her back. Glints of metal in her hair seemed to shine at any movement, and he suspected they were laced with spikes to keep enemies from grabbing onto them.

"Ohayo, Kurosawa-San." He said, giving a short bow. She glanced up at him for a moment, and he noted that her iris seemed to be completely black. It was an eerie look, but she merely nodded.

"Kenta." She corrected, going back to her food. She was slightly hunched over the plate, and was only using a single hand to eat. Her other was bandaged and set in a cast, banded to her opposite shoulder so it wouldn't hang.

Iruka resigned himself to another conversation with an eccentric Jounin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've had much more of this story written out from a few years ago and I thought I'd post what I have written! I really enjoyed writing it at the time and the publishing was just an afterthought, and I hope someone enjoys this story as much as I do.


	3. Three

I watched the two shinobi from my peripheral vision as the less imposing figure sat down at the desk provided in the room, near the single window. Kakashi set himself against the wall, remaining standing, and pulled out a book to read. I figured he was here to protect the desk-ninja. I was seen as unbalanced, I'm sure.

"Thank you." I said in between bites of chicken. I glanced up at Kakashi so he knew I was directing it at him. He met my gaze for a second, nodding before returning to his book. I returned my attention to my food in turn. They'd given me plates of heavy carb, heavy protein dishes for each meal, and I ate voraciously. My appetite after waking up hadn't been curbed yet, and I still requested more at each meal. My stomach was like a pit, never seeming to be filled.

"So, Kenta-San." Desk-ninja said. I still didn't know his name, "I need your mission report. It's time sensitive so I'm here to write everything down." He seemed kind, if a bit over polite. Though I suppose that might just be in my company, it wasn't like he knew me.

I hummed in agreement, taking a swig of water to clean my mouth so I'd be able to speak clearly. I was reminded of yesterday, rippingripping, blood pouring from my mouth, warm flesh. I closed my eyes, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

"Okay... Mission length." I began to give him the details on everything. Mission location, names of those on the mission, status, etc., "Mission casualties."

Glassy eyes stared up at me, their blood dripping down my body, I should've protected them. They were teenagers.

"Three dead, one hospitalized." Kami, three. Three less shinobi, three less kids who will ever have families, see their friends, live to be adults.

"Kenta-San!" The desk-ninjas shout made me open my eyes. I blinked at him, and he sent me a reprimanding look before sighing, "Mission summary?"

I was caught in surprise at the look, no one looks at me like that. I snorted lightly, looking out the window past him.

"Sorry, desk-nin." I muttered, amusement coloring my voice. I opened my mouth to begin, but he interrupted me before I could.

"Umino Iruka." He corrected me, and I distinctly felt like a student then. I decided I liked the chuunin.

"Ok, Iruka-sensei." I murmured, and Iruka seemed to suck in a frustrated breath while Kakashi chuckled from his perch against the wall, "We left Konoha during the night, and the only hindrance we met were bandits. I dispatched of them, and we arrived to the Taika province the following night. I had us stop in the morning and sleep until sundown. We reached ember city during the night, and I had the iryo-nin and one other stay outside of the city while two of us entered. There was a minor skirmish when we obtained the scroll, but there was minimal protection."

The man who'd had the scroll stolen initially was very rich. The scroll was important and he must have known shinobi would come for it eventually. No protection would have been suspicious. I'd felt too many strong chakra signatures in the city, spread out, but I'd decided on stealth. No confrontation unless necessary. He must've planned for them to confront us after we left, probably so his compound wasn't ruined. My throat hurt. I should've sent them ahead with the scroll.

"We were pursued when we left, but I wanted to avoid confrontation. There were too many pursuers, 77 I counted later. Shinobi from the land of waves. They caught up to us around the border between the Kageta and Taika provinces. I should have sent my teammates ahead with the scroll earlier, but at that point they would only have been pursued and I thought the chances of their survival would be better if they stayed nearby. Aiko, the iryo-nin, was killed right away. The second two died later, and I took care of the rest of the shinobi. I finished around sunset, then I returned to Konoha that night with the bodies of my teammates."

"Okay... And you took the bodies to the morgue?" His voice held an undercurrent of sympathy. I nodded, tonguing my cheek as I looked back at at my plate. I took a bite of rice, waiting for the next question.

"Sign off on this, and then we're done." He stood up, handing me a pen. I signed at the bottom in a crude imitation of a word. Though I could read fine, I'd never become proficient at writing. If Iruka noticed, he didn't say anything. He rolled the scroll up, and looked like he was about to leave when he glanced back at me, "I'm... sorry about the mission, Kenta-san."

"Maa, nothing you should be sorry for, Iruka-Sensei." I replied lazily. He bit his lip, looking conflicted for a moment, "Thanks, though." A light smile flitted at the corner of his lips, and he bowed again before leaving. Kakashi was gone as well, and I fell back against the pillow with a short sigh.

...

I'm released a day before my birthday. Not that I celebrated my birthday as a big thing, but it would be kind of depressing to spend it in the hospital, regardless. I requested the day off every year, though this year it probably wasn't necessary since I was still technically barred from missions for being freshly released from the hospital.

I missed the hospital a little bit. I couldn't cook for shit, but simultaneously was too much of a shut-in to go out to eat. As a result, my diet consisted of many ration bars and preprepared or dried food. It was all very unfortunate, truth be told, and the hospital providing hot meals three times a day made my release bittersweet.

I lounged around my house for the remainder of the day, oiling and cleaning my gear, replacing or repairing that which needed it. It took a few hours at my slow place, and then I was left with nothing to do so I went to sleep.

...

The bakery had its doors open early, despite the drizzling rain. I bought a small cake, not much wider then my hand. The baker seemed glad when I left.

My second stop was a flower store. It was also open, though it was obvious customers weren't expected so early by the looks I got from the owners when I entered. The Yamanaka clan owned the shop, I remembered, as I saw the clan head Inoichi send who must've been his daughter into the back.

"Ah, Kurosawa-san, it's a surprise to see you here. I assume you're all healed?" He had a pleasant tone, and I couldn't tell if there was anything beneath it. Maybe I was too paranoid.

"Out of the hospital yesterday," I confirmed. I wasn't looking at him, truthfully, but rather at the flowers around the shop.

"It's good to hear. Now, what are you doing here?" There that undercurrent was. I rubbed at my neck, uncomfortable at how obvious it was he'd prefer I wasn't there. I really would rather avoid confrontation at all, it wasn't as if I chose his shop on purpose.

"I... Well, I wanted to buy flowers..." I answered awkwardly. I could tell that wasn't expected by the silence that followed. His chuckle startled me into looking at him straight on, and he was wearing a soft grin, looking abashed.

"Of course, of course. What's the occasion?" He asked, somehow more friendly than before. I thought he'd been friendly initially too. People are confusing.

"Ah, it's complicated. But they're for my family." I said, and he nodded, "I don't really have anything in mind though."

Inoichi picked out a bouquet in less than a minute, explaining to me the meanings of the flowers. It was a sight, really, seeing a full grown Jounin describe how the pink apple-blossom represented promises and gratitude. I appreciated his descriptions none the less, and ended up with a large bouquet of pink and white flowers.

I didn't have any more stops after that, instead making my way to where my entire family resided. The cemetery was a bleak place under the overcast sky, row upon row of stone marking the dead. The ground was soft beneath my boots as I headed down the long row that would take me to the three familiar headstones.

When I arrived, I sat down cross legged. I opened the umbrella I brought with me, propping it against my shoulder to keep the rain away. I put the bouquet of flowers on my brothers grave, pulling out an azalea for each my father and mother.

The mangled corpse of my father, the bloody corpse of my brother, and the cold white corpse of my mother. Oh, the people I chose to spend my birthday with.

I opened the cake quietly, putting it on my knee. I didn't have much of an appetite, but up until the last of my family was gone, it had been a tradition to have sweets on our birthdays.

"Kaa-San, your cake would've been much better." I murmured to myself, taking a bite of the cake. It was comforting to spend the day with these people, even if just in spirit. It was a remainder that their love was with me, that there was good in my life.

My thoughts pulled away from me, into a familiar hole. You really think they'd love you if they knew you? If they'd seen your sins, knew what you'd become. Ripping, tearing, blood. That is you, all you are.

I sighed, puffing out my cheeks. I silenced the thoughts to my best ability, focusing on the sound of rain hitting the umbrella. It was comforting, if nothing else.

I let my eyes slide close, concentrating on nothing at all. It was peaceful, and that was all I could ask for. Time flowed, and sometimes I could almost feel the presence of my family besides me. It was fleeting, but welcomed all the same. As the years went by, it was harder and harder for me to remember them.

My fathers voice was only a vague rumble in my memory, a vision of quiet stories and singing lessons. He'd been a shinobi, but was somehow so soft. I liked to think he was a good man. He was the first to go, dying when I was five years old during a border patrol. Twenty-one years ago. The years that had passed seemed astronomically large for a day I remembered like the back of my hand.

My brother I remembered a bit better. I'd had him for four years longer, after all. He was three years older than me, but I'd surpassed him to Chuunin rank at seven years old. I'd felt so good about myself, but his pride in me was what surprised me always. I'd never understood him. Jealously or dislike would been understandable... Aniki was something different. He always had lots of friends and big smiles, teaching me how to pull pranks on naive civilians from rooftops. Silly stuff like rank had never been so important to him, though he was suspected to become a solid, dependable shinobi with time.

He didn't live long enough to become a chuunin, though. His entire genin team was wiped out on a mission that should've been a C-rank, one of their firsts. Just like that.

A lump stuck itself into my throat. I breathed deeply through my nose, resting my chin on my hand.

My mother was the last to leave, less than a year after my brother. She was a kunoichi in the past, but never when I knew her. I didn't have memories of her from before my father's death, but afterwards she'd been all weary smiles and soft laughs. She'd been closer to my brother than she'd been to me, though she tried not to show it. I recognized it well enough, though. I don't think she ever understood me, and I couldn't hold that against her.

My brother's death broke her. Whatever had held together after my fathers death crumbled. She spent months in bed, and I did my best to help her when I wasn't on missions. We'd moved into the apartment I still lived in currently then, without enough money to afford our old home. I'd say that's when she died, but that wasn't technically true. I returned from a mission a week or so later to find her days-dead corpse in the living room, surrounded by a substantial pool of blood. She'd committed suicide through a stab to the heart.

I spent sometime like that. I couldn't be sure how long, but at one point the rain seemed to find its way below my umbrella and onto my cheeks.


	4. Four

A few weeks later, after returning from my first mission after my hospital leave, I found myself in that weird lull between missions. I showed up at the missions desk in the morning to request a mission, but there were no S or A-rank missions that were authorized for solo work. Unless I was specifically requested for a team mission, I wouldn't usually search them out on my own, and especially not after the mess of my last team mission.

Now, I used to think missions weren't authorized for solo work because someone thought they were too hard. I'd specifically sought out the Hokage for an explanation that time, too young and arrogant to accept a desk-nin's explanation. For a bit of context, I'd been established among the top ranks of shinobi in the village after the war, and it went to my head naturally.

The Hokage explained it to me then, and I had to grudgingly accept. The anticlimactic truth was that missions specifying non-Solo meant that at some point, team work would likely be necessary to complete the mission. Such as a mission involving a distraction, escort (shinobi needed to sleep after all, and another shinobi would have to watch their back), or things like that. A lot of them could be argued with, but a another mission usually showed up fast enough that I didn't bother.

Regardless of all that, I was left with an astounding amount of nothing to do. I'd checked all my gear twice today already. I could train, I supposed. I knew enough practice routines to keep me busy till next month, but there were boring too. It was all stuff I knew. Maybe I could find someone to teach me something new... Or maybe I could spar with Gai to polish up my taijutsu. We were on relatively equal footing when it came to taijutsu, but it significantly paid off to be fluid and well-practiced in the jutsu.

The problem with Gai was his enthusiasm. I'd let him rope me into a spar before, and though he was charming (read:exhausting) enough, I don't know what the result would be if I were to seek him out. I didn't want anything like that mess of rivalry that he'd hashed out with Kakashi.

I didn't quite know a thousand jutsu like Kakashi supposedly did, but our affinities didn't mesh and I couldn't account for how many of his jutsu would be affinity based. And the pair of us were pretty socially awkward, putting us together was a pain if there wasn't a mission involved.

I mused about asking the Hokage to teach me something. Or maybe one of the two non-crazy (the term being used loosely) Sannin was in town. I'm sure they might have a trick up their sleeves.

I decided to seek out word around town, and to ask the Hokage if nothing worked out. Not to put him down, but it wasn't like he did much most days anyway. At the most, I'd wait until he finished working. Or he'd turn me down, but I had a contingency plan to prevent something like that.

I was already dressed up, so all I had to do was leave. Walk out the door. Exit the premises. Sighing inwardly at how bothersome the situation was, I stood. I had both of my swords strapped to my back, and a few kunai and senbon laced throughout my clothes. I didn't take a weapons pouch, figuring those would be sufficient. It would be a little strange to wander around the city fully armored, and hopefully unnecessary.

Clean bandages covered the lower half of my face, and my braids were seamless. I wore a sleeveless top, as usual, making the bandages I was wearing now on my post-injury arm apparent. Heavy combat-ready boots tucked into loose cargo pants were my norm, and I wore those too now. All of my clothes were dark colors so I wouldn't have to bother changing them for missions. Maybe not fashionable (had I ever known what fashionable even meant?) but it worked well enough. I liked to think that I looked cool, at the very least.

I live in a relatively lower class area of Konoha, near the walls. My windows actually all offered a view of the stone, which was probably why it came pretty cheap. And it was a small place. And the building was old. And a lot of reasons, but it was what I called home and those reasons didn't bother me. I could afford a nicer place, being one of the top earning shinobi in Konoha, but I just put my money into a savings account and left it for the most part. Food, the random toiletry, utilities, rent payments, and gear made up the entirety of my expenses. Plus, moving would be a bother.

I headed down the steps of the complex, pondering how one might find a nearby Sannin. I supposed if one of them was in a nearby village, I wouldn't mind leaving Konoha either.

Interaction would be necessary, I was sure. Probably in bars or casinos or whichever seedy places those Sannin got to. They didn't usually make themselves known to shinobi intentionally when they happened through Konoha, so I'd skip asking around missions at all. Jiraiya was infamously perverted though, so maybe I'd check around prime snooping spots and areas filled with females too.

The first bar was on my street. It was late morning, and it looked like they were cleaning up from the previous night. One of the workers saw me coming, freezing for a moment. Shinobi, especially reputed shinobi like me, were generally taken caution around by the typical shopkeeper. And by the typical civilian in general, really.

"I need to ask questions." I stated, getting the point across as directly as I could, and the man nodded hurriedly. His hands tightened a bit around the broom handle he held, perhaps a nervous or unconscious defensive habit, "See a big chested blond woman around? With a diamond right here?" I pointed between my eyes.

"Um... I-I don't remember anyone like that." He stammered, flushed a little bit. Civilians could be so cute. I tucked my hands into my pockets, slouching a bit and wholly trying not to come off as imposing. Nervous answers weren't as reliable as calm answers, after all.

"How about a tall, old guy. In his fifties, really long white hair. Wearing red probably. Had a hitae-ate with the kanji for oil."

"No... No, I don't think so. I'm really sorry." He said after a moments consideration. I gave him a short nod, leaving. Onto another place.

I stopped by a gambling place on my way to the red light district. There were a few okiya's and brothels there, but it was pretty tame compared to other cities I'd seen. Mostly a lot of turning over of alcohol, drugs, and money. And hopefully a few Sannin.

A man at the gambling den recognized Tsunade's description, but said he hadn't seen her in a year and a half. She must have left a hell of an impression.

I hoped to have better luck in the red light district. A lot of the places were cleaning house when I got there, doors flung open and trash in the street. A few drunks (I hoped at least, better than drug addicts) were passed out or sleeping in random places, but there was an overall harmless feeling radiating for the most part. Maybe it was just me, after all, I did have full sized katana and wakizashi strapped to my back.

I approached the first bar that had a number of females inside. Jiraiya's type of place, I was hoping. There was lively chatter and laughter radiating from the place as the girls cleaned. It seemed like too many people to be working clean up, but it wasn't my business.

After the first girl noticed me approaching, it was like the domino effect. The place quieted instantly, and I inwardly sweat-dropped. A couple of the girls looked a little more tomboyish, so I figured that it was definitely a bar and not a host club or something.

"I had a few questions." I stopped at the doorway, sticking my hands into my pockets. Maa, why'd they all have to stare at me like this. What a pain...

One of the more tomboyish girls stepped forward, sending a cursory glance backwards. Assuring them?

My gaze dragged off to the side as she stepped out of the shop, joining me on the street. She was pretty tall, like me, and looked healthy enough, though not muscular like me. She was a civilian, after all.

"What do you want?" She asked, almost stand-offish, her arms crossed as she leant against the wall. First Iruka and now this civilian? My month was filled with weird encounters.

"I need to know if you've seen some people lately. Can you help me?" I admitted to myself she was attractive. She had short, bleached hair with a dark undercut, and a smooth, open face. Pretty eyes. Really suspicious, pretty eyes.

"If you'll leave without trouble once I do, sure." She was calm and cool it seemed, but I caught the light movement of her hand, and it seemed like her finger was tapping against the inside of her palm. I saw movement inside the bar out of the corner of my eye, but didn't look to focus on it. I focused on the girl finally, my head cocking to the side as I sighed.

"A woman, blond, diamond on her forehead, large chested, likely consumed large amounts of alcohol, gambled maybe. You see her?" The girl didn't even take a moment to consider it before saying no. I hesitated, a light frown pulling at my mouth.

"Are you sure?" I said slowly, and she nodded, "Okay. Then, a man. Really long white hair, red clothes probably, hitae-ate with kanji for oil, old guy in his fifties." I couldn't force her to think about her answers more, since it was likely she was telling the truth anyways.

She opened her mouth, about to answer with a solid no probably, but hesitated a second before closing her mouth. She looked away, and nodded. I was too surprised for a moment to say anything, blinking stupidly.

When?" I asked, my voice lowering an octave. If anyone knew me well enough, they'd know it meant I was excited. To her, it must've sounded threatening because she glared at me suddenly.

"Are you going to kill him?" I felt tempted to say something ambiguous, like 'my business is my own', but getting a rise out her wouldn't be worth losing information.

"Maa maa, nothing like that. I just need to talk to him." Regardless, he was a legendary shinobi. It wasn't like I even had a chance against him without a full arsenal and weeks to plan.

"Well, he came in last night. He seemed like a pervert, getting excited about all the girls... It took a few times asking before he would leave, like he didn't understand that it was a lesbian bar."

I stared at her. It was a lesbian bar? As in... I must've been staring at her intently because she narrowed her eyes.

"Are shinobi unable to grasp that concept or..." Sarcasm. Lots of sarcasm. I coughed, raising my hand to scratch my neck as I puffed up my cheeks. I let it out in a long stream of air, gathering my thoughts.

"No...?" I trailed off, "The concept is fine." I didn't know there were bars for gay women, "Are there really enough gay women for that?" My curiosity was piqued, I admit. I lived a closeted life.

"Fuck." She looked exasperated, staring at the sky for a moment, "Yes. There are." She said shortly. I glanced inside the bar. It looked like any other bar, though I wasn't exactly sure what I expected.

I hummed a bit, considering the information for a minute before remembering I had other reasons to be there.

"Right, so do you know anything about where Jiraiya-san might have gone, or where he is?" It was more than I expected to even hear that he was in town, but anything else she had would be appreciated.

"Probably doing something perverted, but that's just a guess. I don't know." She gave me a look that said the conversation was over.

"Thank you for your help." I bowed slightly. If I was nicer to her than the others it was because she was cute.

"Ano... I'm Bility by the way. Shinobi usually are only trouble, and I thought you'd be the same." The apology was disjointed slightly, but an apology none the less.

If I was suave and any good at flirting, I might've replied with something along the lines of 'I can be trouble too', with a cool wink at the end, but I've never been known for my good talking skills. Or maybe I wouldn't say that at all, because the more I think of actually saying that, I believe it's not such a good phrase. I'd know the actual cool thing to say if I was actually good at flirting, I guess.

"Kurosawa Kenta." I said instead, giving a short two fingered wave as I walked away. I think I saw surprise - or perhaps something more like shock - smooth out her expression as I left. Maybe she'd heard of me.

I don't get much more luck after that. Some places are already closed up until the evening, since I'd taken so long questioning Bility. I checked what host clubs were open first, looking for any sign of him. I ask a couple questions in the different places, but all I get is either a flat out no, or someone who saw him but doesn't know where he is anymore. I don't really end up with anything more than a list of places I know he'd visited and places he didn't.

I abandon my search of the red light district soon afterwards, deciding to try some other places. Like the bathing spots by the waterfall, since I knew girls would go there occasionally. Not because I was a pervert, I just... Saw them. When I was there. A few times.

I scout out the area, looking for any snooping Saanin (haha, good use of alliteration I'd say). I was correct about the girls though; a few girls maybe a couple years my junior are lounging around on the rocks, sunbathing. If I'm there a minute or two longer than necessary, no one has to know that.

I drop by the bathhouse next. It would be significantly harder for a man to snoop, due to the walls, but Jiraiya wasn't a Sannin for nothing so I figured I'd better check it out. Once I got there, I decided I'd come back later to enjoy the bath regardless. It was altogether a pleasant place, and usually not so crowded late at night around closing. I used to come more often, years back, and had figured that much out. The less people to gape at me, the better. Usually it was just old women, but they were the worst because they always had to say something too.

I scouted around the treetops, peering down into the area surrounding the bathhouse. I'd nearly circled it when I caught a glimpse of red mixed in with a whole lot of green. The Sannin's legendary techniques seemed to involve hiding in bushes. A smirk tugged at my lips as I dropped down behind him.

"Ohayo, Jiraiya-sama." I said, dropping down onto my haunches for a more comfortable position. Jiraiya didn't spin around or stiffen in surprise, I suspected he knew I was there before I ever saw him. Though he didn't seem it, he really was a master.

Instead, he peered back over his shoulder. I stare at him half-lidded, my arms propped on my knees.

"Ah, my cute kohai Kenta-chan." I think Jiraiya was the only person to ever call me cute. Or who used the suffix Chan together with my name, besides my own family when I was younger. "I'm busy with research right now, so I can't talk. Can we do this later?" (Read:never) he returned to his supposed snooping.

"Ne, ne, Jiraiya. I didn't even ask you anything." I turned my gaze to the sky. It was truly a lazy day, the few clouds in the sky moving slowly. A light breeze tugged at me once in a while, but that was the extent of the wind.

"You're going to though." Tch. I heaved a deep sigh, pressing the palm of my hand to my cheek.

"I want you to help me. I'll help you snoop if I must, too, in exchange." I stuck my bottom lip out, though the effect was probably lost with the bandages covering my mouth.

Jiraiya stood up abruptly, turning to face me. I looked up at him despondently, waiting for an answer. I'd given him the best I could offer, he'd be a fool to refuse.

"...You are a girl, technically." He mused, handing on his chin. I hummed in agreement, noticing the calculating look in his eyes.

"Okay, I'll help you maybe. What do you want, brat?" He asked. He was somewhere around 25 years my senior, but it was still strange to be talked to like a child. Even the Hokage didn't address me like that, and he was as old as dust.

"Teach me something cool." On a second thought, I clarified, "A jutsu." I got to my feet, raising my hand to rest them on the pommels of my swords. It meant nothing, and Jiraiya knew it. Some shinobi would get skittish about the habit I had to rest my hands on my blades, but he thankfully knew better. It was an unconscious action usually, like putting my hands in my pockets.

"Anything in mind?" He hummed, looking around pensively.

"An elemental jutsu I don't know might be cool. Or a highly effective low chakra jutsu." I shrugged. Usually highly effective and low chakra didn't mesh, no matter what people said, but there were a rare few jutsu that fit the standards.

He looked like he was about to say something when an obnoxiously bright kid interrupted.

"Pervert-sensei! You're late, you were supposed to be-!" The kid, a genin who was probably like two years old, was cut off by Jiraiya.

"Shut up, Naruto! Kenta-chan is going to help me research-"

"Aha! Another pervert!" The ball of energy rounded on me, pointing. I stared at him. Naruto Uzumaki, then? The jinchuuriki. I guess it wasn't surprising, with the chakra readings coming from him, "Aaaaaeh? You're a girl. Kenta is a boy name though. And you can't be a pervert then." He seemed very thrown off the trail at that point.

"And Naruto is a bird's name." I redirected offhandedly, which wasn't true but he seemed like the type who'd take a minute to realize the bullshit, "You're right, though. I'm not a pervert. Unlike pervert-sensei over here." Jiraiya tch'd, probably more due to my claiming not to be a pervert really.

Naruto seemed suspicious of me now that I made such a claim.

"Naruto, you can't be calling people perverts so openly, anyways." Jiraiya said, seeming to take the high road, "And I can't train you now. I promised Kenta something." Well, we hadn't quite gotten there yet, but I didn't bother to point out the inconsistency.

"Who are you anyways? I've never seen you around, Kenta." He exaggerated my name, giving me a suspicious look down his nose. I wasn't sure what the kid was getting at there, really.

"I'm a shinobi," I said dully. He already knew my name. There wasn't that much to me.

"Then what's your family name?" I considered telling him I didn't have one just because I couldn't be bothered.

"Kurosawa." I said instead, because it was simpler.

"There's no way you're Kurosawa Kenta! He's at least seven tall, has claws, doesn't come out during the day, and has teeth sharper than a wolf to tear apart his prey." He rattled off the apparent factual evidence I'd missed when deciding to exist, "Not to mention that he's a war hero! You're not old enough even."

"Okay." I responded after a pause. I sounded cooler the way he described me anyways.

"Ne, ne, Naruto, she's really Kurosawa Kenta." Jiraiya said, sounding a little smug for some reason.

Naruto crouched in front of me, scrutinizing me. I looked back at him.

"If it helps anything, I actually fit one of the criteria." I said, lifting up a finger to tug down the bandages. His eyes went wide, his mouth forming a little o. I brought a finger to the corner of my lip, tugging at my lip to show my teeth. They were razor sharp, indeed much sharper than a wolves measly dull points.

"Wow, Kakashi-sensei never lets us see his face!" He sounded elated. Was this brat on Kakashi's genin team? I knew he'd taken on his first genin team, but hadn't ever really looked into it, "I met another guy with teeth like yours, this ninja from Mist! He used kenjutsu too! Maybe you are Kurosawa Kenta!" A lazy smirk pulled at my lips as I dropped my finger, glancing up at Jiraiya. He hadn't seen me often with my face coverings, only one or twice. He didn't seem all that interested though, merely grinning. I thought I caught I weird look in his eye for a second, but it was gone right away.

"Maybe." I agreed, my attention shifted back to Naruto, "Kakashi is probably embarrassed though, I'll bet he has buck teeth." Naruto told me he'd came to the same conclusion, and that Kakashi hid his face from society to protect his self esteem. What a thoughtful kouhai for Kakashi. I pulled the bandages back over my face, content that I didn't completely fail this kids perception of me.

"Ano, you have weird stuff too though. How'd you get those scars?" He imitated with his fingers the scars that curved upwards on both sides of my lips. They were long healed, but the skin remained shiny and slightly puckered. It was only natural he would notice them.

If my heart constricted for a second, it was only for me to know.

"I'm sure you wouldn't be interested, it's pretty boring." I said, sounding bored myself.

Screamingcryinghurt, I'm terrified and Kami STOP, I can't see, blood is in my eyes and it hurts. My heart is beating so fast, but why are you doing this to me. Please stop, please... Please.

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested, come on-" Jiraiya's hand on his shoulder stops him mid sentence.

"Ne, Naruto, don't you have any manners. It's not polite to ask someone about their scars." He scolded Naruto. I was thankful, but I don't think I could stomach more playful banter after that.

"Maa, I think I'll let you guys train. I forgot that I have to go clean my living room." I stood up, "Some other time, Jiraiya." Our eyes meet. He didn't offer pity, but something else that I appreciated. I gave a slight nod, barely at all. It wasn't his or Naruto's fault, after all. I had so many triggers that a curious kid like Naruto was bound to land on one of them.

"Wait, Kenta-neechan-" Oh god. I barely suppressed a flinch, but Jiraiya would have still noticed.

"See you Naruto." I was gone in a flash, running over rooftops.

Kenta-neechan, Kenta-neechan, Kenta-neechan, we got a C-rank! Soon we'll be even again. Cheeky grin, ruffled hair. Kenta-neechan, why weren't you there? Kenta-neechan, why'd you let me die!? Kenta-neechan-

I was in my apartment a half second before I began to hyperventilate. Memories swirled in my head, I couldn't suppress them. As I stumbled to the bathroom, my mothers corpse surrounded by blood flashed in the spot where she'd killed herself. More thoughts joined the swirling mess in my head.

Kami, why do I smell blood. I'm back from mission, I'm home, why does my home smell like death. I'm too late, she blames me, she killed herself because I wasn't good enough, oh Kami why couldn't I stop her? Why wasn't I good enough? Why did she do it, why, why, why. It's too much blood for such a little body, and all of it's on the wrong side.

Images played back like a horror film as I threw up into the toilet. I squeezed my eyes shut, hitting my head against the wall as I groaned. Blood dripped down onto the bridge of my nose, making a little swirling river down my nose. The pain gave me a focus that I gladly took, ignoring the blood dripping down from my nose.

I leant my head against the cold stone wall, feeling a bit dead inside. At least the thoughts had slowed down. I knew enough basic healing jutsu that the wound wouldn't be a problem once I calmed down.

God, I wish I wasn't such a nutcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more light hearted and fun of a chapter (for the most part). The juxtaposition of some of these finely honed genius ninja who can kill with a pinky being so lacking in basic social graces is always interesting to me.


	5. Five

Sleeping during missions is never quite fulfilling. The mission sleep we were trained for was light enough that a single unexpected noise will wake us, in addition to any weird sudden chakra if your chakra senses are sensitive enough. The takeaway from super light sleep is that the sleep isn't great.

If I had to sleep during a solo mission, I would summon Koju. Koju was an unnaturally large tiger summon, and he didn't mind the rare situations because most of the time I called him, there was a substantial quantity of bloodletting involved. He was just as prepared to laze around on watch as he was too tear out my foes hearts, which made him my favorite summon. I didn't have a lot, but he was my most reliable. I think he liked me too, since he only complained a little bit when I did ask him to take watch.

Right now, he was prowling around nearby. He would move around sometimes, but always within chakra-sensing distance. He must've noticed the shifts in my own, because he appeared in front of me only a moment later.

"Am I done babysitting you?" He asked, his voice neutral despite the patronizing words.

"Hai. Thanks, Koju." He disappeared back to wherever he lived in a cloud of steam, which quickly dissipated.

It was a little after sunset, I could tell. There was still the hint of sunlight in the sky, not quite gone just yet. It was a strange choice to sleep during the day and work during the night, especially since I followed a typical sleeping schedule while in Konoha, but I preferred the night anyways. I had permanent enhanced night vision, thanks to a rare jutsu, and my chakra sensing was good enough that I felt completely comfortable at night, traveling or fighting. The reduced chance of running into any unrelated interference, small or big, was the biggest benefit of the practice.

Now that I was awake, though, I had to get moving. I put away the insulated plastic tarp I slept under on cold nights, fitting it into a side pocket on my pack. I was wearing completely black clothing, instead of the mild olive greens and navy blues that I sometimes wore, including black bandages that I'd dyed myself for the mission. I took out a container of thick, chakra infused, black camo paint. I applied it in a long stripe from one corner of my face, over my eyes and to the opposite side. An unfortunate side effect of having permanent nocturnal eyes was that during the night, my eyes shined unnaturally, like any nocturnal animals'. The paint would offset that effect, to keep my eyes from acting as a beacon if anyone were to catch a glimpse of me.

When I finished, I took out a ration bar before beginning to move. I ate while I ran over the trees, heading northward.

It was a relatively short trip, thankfully. I hoped to be back in time to catch part of the finals of the chuunin exams. I heard even that kid Naruto had made it. I guess he wasn't as worthless as he came off as, though the fact that Jiraiya had agreed to teach him anything was testament to whatever ability he must possess. He was the jinchuuriki, though, so I guess regardless of talent, he'd always be able to be something if he tried.

The mission was an A-rank assassination. Some minor feudal lord who, according to the numbers I'd been given, only had ten shinobi on hand. Even if something did go wrong and I was found out, that measly number wasn't enough to cause me to slow down.

I'd been training on an ice-release move too, one Jiraiya had taught me. He didn't practice ice-release himself, but had the foreknowledge to teach the technique. I hadn't been able to use it in practice yet, unfortunately. Maybe I could use it on the compound. It wasn't anywhere near to even touching on 'small chakra usage', instead becoming one of the biggest moves in my arsenal. The largest I'd gotten it to encompass had drained a quarter of my entire chakra in a single hit. Surrounding a single compound wouldn't take much then, compared.

Still, I resolved to leave it alone unless I was discovered.

I reached the designated destination in the middle of the night. It wasn't so large, as the 'minor' part of minor feudal lord suggested, but still nothing to scoff at. I completely dissipated my chakra signature when I drew near, leaving not a breath to be discovered. Efficiency was key.

I first found all of the guards. Some hid in surrounding trees, others in plain view. The shinobi were easily enough distinguished from the civilian guards when looking at chakra signatures. I counted eighteen active guards, four shinobi and the rest civilian guards.

It didn't matter though. Now that I'd found them, all I had to do was avoid them. I had received a general layout of the house, in addition to where the man I sought was suspected of sleeping. I positioned myself nearest to the man before dropping into the complex. I scanned for traps as I went, a simple genjutsu making me invisible to the naked eye. I broke the lock on the sliding, glass door leading to the man's chambers, pinching it in my fingers. A barely audible click was all there was to be heard, even with my chakra-enhanced hearing.

The door was slid open and shut within the space of a second, to prevent any sudden shift in the air inside the house. The information I'd been given was true, it seemed. I dispatched of the man with a quick jab to the temple. His small chakra flickered then died, along with his vitals. He'd never wake up again, going semi-peacefully in his sleep, and I wouldn't have to deal with the awkward situation of a gasping, dying mess.

I surveyed the house for other chakra signatures. His wife slept besides the now-corpse, to which I gave my sympathies. That wouldn't be a pleasant thing to wake up to, though it wasn't exactly a gory mess. Could be worse, I supposed.

There was another couple chakra signatures in the house. The man had a few children, the oldest of who was a businessman in the nearby city. I checked on them regardless, confirming the identities. I made sure to do everything to prevent embarrassing oversights. When I was satisfied, I returned to the mans chambers. I grimaced when I noticed the tell tale signs of the woman awakening. I needed something of the man's for proof, and so I swiftly cut and bagged his hand while she stirred. I was already in the forest when she screamed, with no way for her to know that her husbands killer had been with her only seconds before.

I escaped southward, the threat of pursers soon forgotten as I left behind a manufactured tragedy.

...

The mission had gone well, meaning I would be able to sleep that night a few hours and still make the day and a half journey back to Konoha around the time for the exams. I had been considering returning without stops if I was held back too much, but it wouldn't be necessary now.

I completed about half the journey before noontime, and decided to sleep then. It was a little late, but it would allow me to get seven hours or so until sunset, and then I would complete the journey hopefully during the exam. If I just made the final match, I'd be happy, so I didn't think I'd bother rushing. At the most, it happened again in half a year.

I set a seal based jutsu that would act as an awareness perimeter. If anything more threatening than a bird entered, I'd be woken up. I activated it before settling down on a thick branch.

I fell asleep to the sound of wind rustled foliage and the warmth of the sun on my skin.

...

I woke up to multiple chakra signatures flitting below me. It was sunset exactly, and I would have woken soon regardless, but that didn't make me any happier. I was on alert immediately, though the shinobi (I inferred at least) didn't seem to have recognized my presence. They were moving South at a marching pace, quick but steady. No unnecessarily wasted chakra. I muted my chakra signature, setting off trailing them.

There were six of them, twice the size of the typical Konoha squad. That concerned me. Non Konoha ninjas in the Land of Fire was concerning. I enhanced my sight to see them clearer, as they were roughly five hundred meters ahead of me. It was a technique similar to the Byakugan that I'd developed for such purposes. It was taxing on chakra, without half the range of the Byakugan, and only allowed me to see through carbon-based objects. It came in handy though, especially for purposes like this.

The six were heavily geared, moving in formation. My eyes widened in surprise when I saw the symbol on their hitae-ate. Sound ninja. Despite the fact that we were hosting Sound ninja in Konoha for the chuunin exams, we weren't on good terms with them. And there was no way these shinobi were coming peacefully, so heavily geared, at a marching pace meant for war, traveling in the middle of the night, and set to arrive at the tail end of the exams.

The most obvious conclusion was that the Sound was going to attack Konoha, but I obviously didn't have substantial evidence to base much on it. However, as a shinobi of Konoha, I couldn't leave this situation alone. A shinobi should prepare for anything but plan for the worst.

I made a decision to intercept them. A Nara would have been useful for their Shadow Paralysis jutsu, but I would have to make do. I was well within my jurisdiction to kill all six of the foreign, suspicious-acting shinobi, but I made do with five.

It was over before the head of the formation had turned around. The five bodies hit the ground not so far below us as he ground to a halt, spinning with a dawning horror apparent on his face. The sudden disappearance of all of your teammates chakras would surprise anyone.

I stood in their place, watching him lazily. I held the bloody swords interlocked behind my back, like I usually held them when they were in their sheaths. He clearly knew that he was out of his scope, maybe a newly minted Jounin at best. It would make sense if he really was the leader of the shinobi. He held a kunai in his hand regardless, his shock turning to resignation.

"You can't stop us all, Konoha-nin."

The shinobi said, his eyes closing. He took his own life. I let him do it, already running by the time his body joined his teammates on the forest floor. At least he confirmed something nefarious was happening. I was almost glad, since it meant I hadn't killed five harmless ninja prematurely. My judgement had been good.

Not that he had solved any problem of mine. No ironically, he had created a very big one for me. Since the shinobi were set to arrive around the exam time at their pace, I hoped that meant the attack was slated for that time. Who was attacking, though? Just the Sound? Alone they wouldn't be enough, their military strength couldn't compare to the sheer quantity of Konoha. Unless they'd picked up some serious mercenaries, they would have to have an ally, or allies. I didn't bother speculating further than that, since nothing could be confirmed until I arrived anyways.

I didn't significantly increase my speed, though. I would need my chakra to fight, and I couldn't waste too much on arriving twenty minutes earlier. Our intelligent division wasn't anything to scoff at, and I doubt any invasion could be staged that they wouldn't find out of before. I had to have faith in that, no planned event of significance had ever slipped past them before.

I dispatched of a four man Jounin team when I was two hours off. The sun had risen sometime earlier, and I suspected that the closer the exam time was, the more teams I would run I told. The Jounin team had some skill and weren't pushovers by any means, but the fight still only lasted less than two minutes. I had the benefit of surprise, and probably more experience than the four of them combined before my sixteenth birthday.

The only wound was a superficial slice on my lower arm from a thrown kunai. I would have liked to sit a moment to let the blood coagulate, but I didn't want to waste the time. Instead, I wrapped a plain bandage around it from my pack, lacking any of the black bandages I'd preprepared. It would be naive to ignore it - despite its size, acquiring to many of those could kill a person from blood loss. If I had the time and means to fix it, I would. In battle, my forethought would be rewarded.

I was on the move again, pushing against the desperate desire to blast ahead. Battle was not a place where qualities like recklessness thrived. Get lucky once, twice, a million times. But you'll be dead all the same when the death reaper comes for you, regardless of how lucky you'd been. Let not luck play a part in the theatre of life and death.

Different phrases came to mind as I ran, counteracting different urges. I hadn't been in a real battle in such a long time, and the old instincts needed to be sharpened. The thought of my Konoha citizens dying, my comrades dying, anyone dying while I was uselessly far was terrifying to me. It was a childish thought, but I didn't want to lose anyone.


	6. Six

I heard the battle before I saw it. Metal clashes, debris flying, screams, shouts. My heart hammered in my chest, my blood rushing. I could feel fury clasping at my chest, bloodlust taking my heart for its own. I was met by what I expected, taking a minute to assess. Battle was apparent in the city, fights broken out every where. On a nearby wall, giant snake summons had crushed the stone. Orichimaru might be involved.

Smoke rose from the city in patches, like a glowing coal. The only good news apparent was the no citizens were on the streets. They must've been evacuated. I didn't want to think hard on the alternative, that they might be all in their homes.

The snakes had to go. I was there in a flash, swords drawn as I flashed towards the closer one. I'd gutted the beasts eyeball by the time it reacted. It's head flung back, but I flipped back onto its head, suctioning onto the monster with chakra. I could feel the flitting presences of comrades and enemies. It didn't matter though, as the Mist-nin rushed to assess the new threat I presented. My sword was already hilt deep in the first snakes head.

Pulsing anger filled me at these enemy shinobi - how dare they come here and burn and tear - taking me over completely. Bloodlust came with it, filling my vision with red. I roared like an animal as the giant snake collapsed, raising my sword in the air. My comrades answered my call, and I joined them.

I vaguely recognized Ibiki Morino in the fray, the commanding officer of these shinobi. I'd heard of him, and I understood that these shinobi here were in good hands.

I was immediately hit by multiple shinobi, who must have hoped to overwhelm me. I laughed as I blocked their attempts. I laughed, promising them death. I took an attacking shinobi through the stomach, cutting him clear in half. I raised my leg, kicked the torso into an advancing shinobi. He couldn't dodge us both at the same time. I met him in the air, and his head dropped to the ground separate from his body.

I caught another one hoping to capitalize on the distraction her comrade caused me. I caught her by the neck, slamming her down on the ground. I pulled down by bandages and in the same motion tore out her throat with my teeth. Blood and flesh and cartilage filled my mouth, and I spit out the girls throat next to her twitching body. The half second of horror I caused the other shinobi let me gut two of them when I appeared behind them. I slid my blades out of their bodies to catch the blade of a desperate type. His kenjutsu was well practiced but he lost his head now. It was too bad that he would die for it. He could do nothing when I withdrew my wakizashi from the block, and speared him through the heart. I raised his body heavenwards, his blood splattering me.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!" I roared to the remaining enemies, their comrade raising above my head. My other sword is covered in blood, pointed away from my body. I slid his body off my sword, kicking it off the perch we fought on, "DID YOU THINK WE WOULD ALLOW THIS?!" My voice is fire and hell, raising above the clash. Rage boils my blood, and I rip the heart out of my next opposer. I drop it on him so he can be certain of his death in his final seconds.

The second snake slams into where I stood. I let it, barely avoiding it by a meter. We are kin, this beast and I, filled with bloodlust and fury both. But he is not I, and he will die. His jaws unhinge, neck pulling back. I knew what was coming, a violent burst of speed and venoms cruel arms. I didn't care, and I instead shifted to avoid the fangs as I was enveloped into its mouth. My blow came from inside it, my blade thrust through the roof of its mouth. Again and again as it sought to crush me. I have to cut the mandible muscles to release myself from its corpse in the end, and I immediately return to the fray.

The enemies in the sector are wiped out within minutes now that their destruction was assured. I wipe my blades on the clothes of one of the dead as we catch our breath. I feel only cold as I approach Morino, sheathing my swords.

"Ibiki Morino, correct." I state, not really asking, and he bows to me.

"Hai, Kurosawa-sama. Thank you for your help." I nodded, my eyes narrowed slightly as I surveyed Konoha.

"What happened here, Morino-San? I returned from my mission to this... I know close to nothing." I turn my gaze on him.

"Sound and Sand attacked during the exams. Orichimaru is involved as well, he's currently battling the Hokage at the arena, but they're trapped inside a field. ANBU are there, waiting for a chance but last I heard, they weren't able to reach the Hokage, Civilians are all evacuated. Orders follow regulation for Konoha-centered attacks." He told the different details as if they were bullet points in a report. I mulled over the information, turning away.

I technically outranked him, as he was a Tobetsuki Jounin for his T skills. As a Jounin, I should be one of the leaders on the field anyway. Those in my position should strategize and organize shinobi in the field.

The thing is, I play solo.

"Good luck. Stay safe, Morino-San." I bow to him. He replies in turn before he's off, organizing the shinobi. I watch only for a second before I leave. My objective was the Hokage, in that moment. The Hokage was strong, but he was old. I would help him in what way I could, which hopefully meant figuring a way to bypass or destroy the cage he was in. I would sweep the area between here and the tournament, take out any enemy shinobi. It was a breath of relief to hear that the civilians were safe, so I needn't worry about rescue.

Smoke and dust filled my nostrils as I spread out my chakra. A nearby cluster of shinobi drew me nearby, their sputtering and spiking chakra indicating jutsu use. I don't like what I feel though - there are a few chakra signatures that are only whispers compared to a shinobi, exactly how a civilian's chakra feels. I don't like that at all.

I hear the fight before I see it, since they're fighting in the streets. Metal clashes, grunts, whimpers, impact, exactly what one would suspect. I take a split second to survey the situation when it comes into view, scanning the street below. Four civilians against a wall, two Konoha-nin, four Sound-nin. The Konoha-nin are overpowered vastly.

I'm veiled up until I sever the head from the first nin's body with my wakizashi. It hasn't hit the ground by the time I've impaled the second through the heart. The last two are ready, and when I go to take the nearest out, he's used a replacement jutsu.

It didn't change his fate in anything other than a second, though, as a kunai rips his throat open where he materializes, ten meters away. The last enemy shinobi's eyes are widening in shock at the sudden shift when I materialize behind her. My blade meets flesh one last time in the fight, and the girl collapses to the ground.

Silence is left, the two Chuunin shinobi stock still.

"Why aren't these civilians evacuated?" I asked, my voice low as I regain my bearings. The first chuunin, a brown-haired man younger than me, steps forward.

"Thank you for your help, Kurosawa-san. As for the civilians, we don't know, we caught the shinobi cornering them and attacked. We were on our way to the Southern entrance, for backup." I turned my gaze on the aforementioned group of civilians. Four women, adults, no obvious injuries. I looked back to the shinobi.

"Continue to the Southern entrance, I'll take care of the civilians." The chuunin nodded and then disappeared, their chakra signatures rapidly headed away. I turned on the civilians, my eyebrows knitting together slightly. I didn't really look at them, instead considering my plan of action. I couldn't take them to the shelter, not now. The attack was already underway, and while I could hide my own chakra, I couldn't hide others. Taking them there would be an undue risk to those there, a risk I couldn't take.

I couldn't leave them, either, or let them hide in any building without protection. Shinobi might find them, or destroy the building they were in during a fight. Too dangerous.

I noticed with a jolt that one of them was from the bar, the one I'd spoke to that had told me Jiraiya was in town. Bility, if I remembered correctly. I couldn't concentrate that, instead deciding on a plan.

"You four, come with me." I began to run at an inhibited pace. We were close enough to where I intended, and it would be a few minutes at their pace. I made sure they were keeping up, keeping my awareness as we ran. My chakra signature was hidden, and their chakra was low enough that no one would catch on to it unless they were looking for it. I hoped that would be enough for that moment.

We arrived to my apartment building, and I had them go up before me. They were tense and scared, and I was solemn. when they were all inside, I closed the door behind me with a sigh before cutting open my forearm with a kunai. The women stiffened, but I continued to begin forming the seals for a summoning jutsu.

I slammed my hands into the ground, pressing my chakra into the action, and steam erupted. From the steam, Koju appeared.

"Koju, Konoha is under attack, and these civilians need protection. I need to leave to fight, so please guard them until I return. And don't allow them to leave." His eyes flicker to the women, while his tongue flicks out. A simple nod is what I get, and I turn to the women finally.

"I can't tell you how long you'll have to remain here. When the fight ends, I'll plan to return, but I can't promise that. Koju will protect you, though, as well as the wards that are set here." I bow to the women. I survey them then, where they stand in some type of shock it seems.

Light aluminates the room, streaming in from the window on the eastern wall. The apartment is quiet and dusty, almost like it exists in a dimension where Konoha isn't currently serving as a battleground between hidden villages. The women, with their small lacerations as well as rough appearances, are apart of a war torn Konoha, the same as myself.

One of the women, a petite, black haired woman, suddenly sits down hard. Dust motes rise at the sudden movement, clearly visible in the sunlight. Another woman moves to comfort her, while the rest looked lost. Another moves to sit down, and I recognize that I've done what I can. From here on, I'll help them and all of Konoha's people most by winning the battle.

The dust motes have settled by the time I turn to leave. I'm taking my time, prolonging the coming bloodshed. I'm becoming tired of taking lives as I get older, but I can rationalize it for what it is, my duty.

"Be safe, Kurosawa-san." I hear from behind myself suddenly, and a chorus of voices echo the sentiment. A moment later, I'm racing over rooftops, heading for where the heaviest amounts of chakra are situated.

At the shifting of my hands, a shinobi is sent skyward, impaled on a spike of ice. His blood trickles down the structure, warm rivulets that will be freeze before they can reach the ground.

The road that my personal battlefield encompasses gleams from a combination of water and blood, covered in corpses and their various misplaced organs. A few are Konoha-nin, most aren't.

I had been on the move, and had just disbanded of a jounin squad in this area when I seemed to have been targeted. Since then, I'd had enemy after enemy, unable to get out of the fray. I wasn't sure why I was being targeted, but I knew it wasn't random. Enemy-nin had often called me by name, and I'd heard them confirming to each other my identity as well. My best guess was, that if Orochimaru was truly behind the attack on Konoha, he was going after my ice-release. He was notorious for his human experiments and his lust for new jutsu. My ice-release was rare, especially in this part of the country.

It didn't matter, if they were targeting me then they weren't targeting others.

A head, a heart, a kidney, an intestine. Death found it's way to my enemies from all sources. A slight shift in chakra from behind prompted me to shift, and I caught the offending shinobi's leg in one hand. I crushed his windpipe before dropping his leg, and then the air stills.

It seems like everyone has frozen solid for a split second, and then the balance shifts. The shinobi who had been surrounding me are leaving, their previous focus on me forgotten. A retreat?

I stood still for a moment, collecting myself. My rushing blood began to calm as the danger dissipated, and a grim silence settled in its place. A couple ragged breathing shinobi are the only distinct sound. I'm not going to bother finishing them off, since they're all on the way to death either way.

I jump onto a nearby roof to survey the village. The expanse of Konoha lays before me, looking akin to a forest of broken trees. Buildings are in obvious disrepair, damage ubiquitous everywhere the eye could see. A few buildings were on fire, and a few buildings had completely been eradicated. Most was just damaged, though. Those would be fixed, and what couldn't be fixed would be rebuilt.

A shiver runs down my body and I let out a deep breath. I felt relieved, relieved that they'd retreated, relieved that my home wasn't lost. The air feels cold on my skin though, and I feel tired, more mentally than physically.

Is the hokage even alive?* He'd been a target from the start. I'd made my way there initially, but I wasn't of any help, surveying a balanced battle. Both Orochimaru and the Sodaime had tricks up their sleeves, so I couldn't be sure of an end result.

I glance downward towards where my battle had taken place. The street looks like it had taken a fresh coating of red paint and a redecoration. Bodies are piling in certain places, and I distinctly remember walking on some of the corpses while fighting. The street was to narrow for the onslaught I'd faced, unable to offer space for all the bodies without overlapping.

Glassy eyes watch me, and I'm reminded of the fact that many of those I'd killed had been younger than myself. Children by civilian standards, some children even by shinobi standards. Kami. They weren't different from my usual victims, yet I felt drained. Almost like I'd have rather died than all of them.

Logically, I knew letting them live would have meant Konoha lives of the same number would have been forfeit possibly, but looking down at these people I only felt remorse. Had the relationships between our villages been different, we might have been comrades. Such a difference is the only reason why they're dead instead of alive, and that pained me. None of the shinobi I had killed were truly wrongdoers, only soldiers for their village like myself. Orochimaru, him I wouldn't feel guilt over killing. Traitors, thieves, rapists: I wouldn't lose a second's thought over criminals. These... these I would.

The remainder of Konoha seems distant from this corner of the village, and it's hard to imagine that there's people out there when it seems like this windy crevice is all there is.

Those people did exist, though, and right now I needed to be where it counted.

...

The Hokage had passed in exchange for dealing a mortal injury to Orochimaru, it seemed. A suicide jutsu, in other words. The Professor lived up to his title in the end, truly the god of Shinobi.

The invasion had left Konoha in tatters, which genin and chuunin went straight to fixing. Cleaning, repairing, corpse control. All of it given to lower ranking shinobi. Konoha would return its civilians after all that could be down was, since having them step over traps and corpses wasn't ideal. For now, they stayed in shelters.

I was dispatched to escort a troupe of high nobles, in place of regular four man teams. They hadn't expected to be caught up the battle, and most were harried to return. Those I was escorting were actually more than one family, since although they came separate, Konoha couldn't spare the manpower to return them all with their own shinobi guards. I was strong enough to deal with any threat up until Sannin-level, a battle in which I'd be hard pressed but not completely without chance.

I had to return to my home beforehand. It was early morning the following day when I finally returned. It had been a night of confusion, body retrieval, and clean up, of which I helped some trap disposal. Mostly, I'd been with the other Jounin captains, though, directing traffic.

When I came through the door, the civilians were awake and quiet. They looked ill-rested, of which I couldn't blame them. I'd be miserable being cut off from something that could potentially change my entire life.

They all looked surprised to see me, a few standing up. Kujo was sleeping, the cat probably realized when trouble was over after all. I dispelled him, deciding I'd thank him later.

I drifted across the floor, the artificial high that had been fueling me so far dangerously close to completely faded. I'd have to get another boost somehow, before I returned to the mess outside my door. For now though, I had a few quiet minutes.


	7. Seven

**Some Years Ago**

My teammates and I waited idly while Shikaku finished his mission report to the Hokage. Raichou, one of my teammates, had sustained a minor injury, but otherwise there'd been no casualties, and the mission parameters had been fulfilled. A successful mission.

It was still early afternoon when we were released for the remainder of the day. Our mission had taken six days, so we'd be given a free day tomorrow and resume regular training the day after. I wanted to work alone on my Ice Release Technique: Ground Spire, so I figured that tomorrow would be a fitting day for that.

Tonight, I would return home and take care of my gear. Perhaps do some research at the library if I had spare time afterwards. It didn't sound exciting, but there was an airy feeling inside of me. I felt very light, without the usual weight of a mission, or injured teammates, or the depression I often suffered from. Today was cast in a strangely optimistic light, a rare occurrence since my brother died.

The sun overheard was bright and the sky unhindered by a single cloud, instead given free reign over Konoha. The people on the streets themselves seemed at ease, the cheerful weather affecting everyone. Street side chatter followed me on my entire trek home, and I passed multiple children's games in alleyways and alcoves. The academy and elementary school had already released for the day, and it was obvious in the influx of children whose presence would have been vacant only an hour ago.

I lived very far from the Hokage tower, in truth, so trek really was the right word to describe my journey home. I'd usually roof jump and speed up the trip, but I wasn't in any rush. The walk reminded me of my sparse few academy days before I'd graduated, at six years old. I was now a chuunin and ten years old, and had been since three years ago.

I'd been assigned to a genin team under a jounin sensei, just like the Hatake kid who was more or less in the same boat as I was. My team had two kunoichi: myself and Aiko. Aiko was on her way to being a medic-nin, though she excelled at genjutsu as well. Raichou, the third member of our team, was an Akimichi. He practiced his clan jutsu as well as taijutsu, primarily. Our sensei, Shikaku Nara, was apart of the Ina-Shika-Cho trio that included Raichou's uncle from the main Akimichi family.

It wasn't a bad team, though our missions were mostly C-ranks and D-ranks, with a sparse few B-ranks. If I'd been an average genin, we likely wouldn't have any B-ranks. Regardless, compared to before my assignment to the genin team, when I'd been going on majority A-rank's in Jounin led Chuunin teams, it was a dull affair. Aiko and Raichou's combined kill count could be counted on a single hand, whereas I'd passed that point years ago. I was already battle-hardened, and the gap between my teammates and I was too large. Protecting wasn't my style, but I'd found myself in that position multiple times in the last year.

I sighed, lacing my hands behind my back. I hoped to make jounin soon, within the next year or two. I still had to improve though, I knew that well enough.

The walk passed pleasantly as I was immersed in thought, and soon enough I found myself near the South wall, where my apartment was nestled. It wasn't a particularly well off area, but if was all I could afford on a single chuunin's mission pay. Years ago, my father had been the head of household, but he'd died and my older brother and I had taken over. His genin pay and my chuunin pay hadn't been enough to sustain the home we'd had, and our mother and us had moved here.

Now, my single pay barely got us through anything. Before I'd joined a genin team, perhaps we'd have been more comfortable. Higher rank missions were higher pay after all. For now, my mother and I currently lived on a mix of my income and our savings. It wouldn't last though. I needed to become a jounin sooner than later.

My mother used to be a mission desks genin. She didn't have the aptitude for leadership, and was only average at fighting, but she was neat, smart, and orderly and she'd been able to get a job as a desk-nin. She quit when Miyuki, my older brother, had been born.

After and ever since my brother died, she'd lost herself. Most days she moves around the house like a ghost. Her beloved husband's death had definitely left her grasping at straws, but her favorite child's subsequent death left her broken. She remembered to eat most days, and would ask me how I was doing when I was around. It was sad being around her, but I admired her for the depths of her feelings. She loved completely and with her whole being. If she hadn't, then she would be like me.

I had loved my father, and my brother even more. But I was less emotional, and the pain was repressible. I let it eat me up at night when I was at home, and left it behind me the rest of the time. I was cold in a way most people weren't, which helped me be the shinobi I was.

The sudden onslaught of thoughts had me distracted as I climbed the concrete stairs to the second floor apartments, but I was drawn back down to reality when I reached the top. However faint it was, the scent of death pervaded the air. It was barely enough to call it a hint, and if it wasn't a familiar scent I doubt I'd have thought on it at all.

It could be a dead animal, and it likely was, but I couldn't relax now that I'd caught the scent. I hesitantly unlocked my apartment door, deciding I'd investigate it after I'd set my things down. I wasn't an Inuzaka, so my nose wasn't an actual tracking tool, but combined with my other senses I would be able to track it down.

Nevermind. I was hit with a rush of the death-laden air as my apartment door swung open. I didn't even have to go inside to see the source.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me. It was dark in the apartment, but not dark enough that I was unable to make out the scene before me. My mother's corpse, encircled by blood. Kami, no.

My step falls were loud in the piercing silence. I stopped at the edge of the blood, peering downwards. My mother was face down, and already visibly dead a few days. The murder weapon was a kunai that lay a couple inches from her hand.

She wore ceremonial funeral garb, likely the same she'd worn to the last two funerals for her family. A laugh startled out of me at the realization, she plans to wear it to her own as well, and I couldn't control it from there.

Giggles bubbled up from my tight throat, and I laughed. My lips were stretched into an uncomfortable smile as I filled the room with my laughter. I couldn't control the reaction, and didn't want to entirely. Why should I?

At some point, tears began to join the laughter. I collapsed on to the ground, pressing my hands into my eyes. Laughter shifted into heaving sobs, slowly at first and then all at once.

Why does this keep happening?

...

I sealed my mother into a body storage seal when I calmed down. I did the customary black band around it to signal it was being used, and then began to clean. The blood was dry, which led me to believe she'd waited until I'd left to do the deed. It made cleaning easier, though.

I felt dull as I scrubbed at the floor, erasing signs of the suicide. Like an empty crevice was inside my chest instead of a heart. I knew that if I looked into that crevice too long that I'd feel the pain again, so I decidedly avoided that. Not right now... save it for another time.

It didn't take long. It was only blood. The problem was that the dusty floor contrasted too much with the now clean portion where the blood had been. I began to clean the entire floor. I went over it with a mop, pressing the tool into the wooden floor again and again until I was satisfied. Meanwhile, my mother's corpse laid on the kitchen table, inside of the innocuous scroll. I opened the window shutters to let in the last rays the sun had to offer.

When I finally ventured into our shared bedroom, I found a note on my mothers nightstand. It wasn't anything long winded, also not a confession or anything of the sort.

I love you, Kenta-chan. Your strength, your solidity, your willpower will get you through this like it has the rest. I'm sorry.

I studied the stilted handwriting for a few minutes, not really reading the words. My heart clenched before I stowed away the paper.

Now... I just had one thing left. I stowed the scroll into a pocket before leaving my apartment.

The sun had since dipped below the horizon, leaving Konoha in dusk. The streetlights lights illuminated the street, as well as those from homes and street side vendors and stores. The good energy I'd noticed before was still present in the people milling about. People ate dinner, kids were playing around, laughing, talking, shouting, giggling.

Konoha was alive and well, but for me I felt like a glass screen now separated me and these scenes. I heard the sounds and noise created by everyone else, but loudest I heard each of my breaths. My body felt more like a prison than ever.

The scroll almost felt as if it were burning a hole in my pocket, I felt it so heavily against my leg. My mother's corpse passing by all these people, and they would never know.

I reached the Nara estate soon, and I knocked at the door. Three solid raps. And I wait.

A woman, Yoshino if I remember correctly, opens the door. She looks only mildly surprised, and calls for Shikaku before inviting me in. We find my sensei on the inner porch, kneeling at the board of shogi, and Yoshino closes the door to the porch after me.

"Kenta-kun." He greets me, bowing his head. He looks up from the board when I don't return a greeting. My jaw is tight as I wordlessly hand over the scroll, but I work it loose enough to speak.

"I don't know what to do." With my mothers dead body. No one ever told me. My voice is tight and without my usual force, and my sensei inspects the scroll. He fingers the black ribbon, one any shinobi would recognize on this type of sealing scroll as referring to a corpse.

"What is in this, Kenta-kun?" He's quiet.

"My mother." A beat of silence, "I don't know what to do with the body."

Shikaku's eyes flicker wider in surprise for a split second, then he gestures for me to sit across from him at the shogi board. I almost decide not to.

"Tell me what happened." It hadn't crossed my mind that he might think I'd killed her, but the wording was ambiguous and left it open ended for me.

"I found her in our home, death by suicide. Blood was dry, stiff corpse, likely dead four to six days."

Shikaku is quiet for a moment, his fingers forming a steeple in his lap. He doesn't look at me, instead down at the pieces on the board. The evening is pleasant, the glow from a lamp upon the wall providing us light.

Such a pleasant day. Such a pleasant day...

"Did she leave anything in writing?"

I hand him the note, being careful of the pieces. He reads it over in a second, but doesn't return it to me like I expected.

"Since Kurosawa-san was a shinobi, I'll have to give the body and evidence of a suicide to medic-nin so they can put together an autopsy report and rule out foul play. I'll handle it from here, Kenta-Kun." He pockets both of the items before looking up at me finally, "Your mother was your last remaining family in Konoha, correct?"

I nodded. I'm truly alone now.

"Will you need help organizing the burial services?"

"No, I did it for my brother a few years ago, and accompanied my mother before that for my father." I feel somber and tired. I don't want another funeral. I want to be happy, and more than that, I don't want to be alone, "Thank you, Shikaku-san."

It was either a credit to his skills of observation or of my lack thereof that I found myself embraced without noticing any movement beforehand.

One of Shikaku's hands cupped the back of my head, and I found myself deflating. I breathed into his shoulder, clutching the material of his robes.

"I'm tired, Sensei." I murmured into his shoulder, struggling to control a wave of emotion, my throat tightening, "I'm so tired."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is everything I have written out for this story so far. I hope you enjoyed it, if you got so far!


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